A Lyric Poem for the SumeriansLet the reed stylus bite the wet clay,Not for ledger, not for grain,But for the hour between sun and sun,When the moon-boat floats on the Euphrates.O city of Ur, your bricks are stamped with stars,Your ziggurat hums like a plucked string.In the courtyard, the beer jug sweats,And the lu-gal drinks …

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